Death comes to all
by Arsynal16
Summary: Years after all the problems in Ship Voyage Arc The Undertaker has returned to the shinigami life, but his past is following him whereever he goes. However there is someone who can help him get over it.
1. Chapter 1

_**Why do people fear death? It's so beautiful…and calm.**_

_*flashbacks* NO! DON'T do this, please honey! You know I love you. I'm begging you; KILL ME, not the kids!_

_**Brings peace to people. After so much struggle**__**and living with so much pain in their world. So. Much. Pain. **_

_*flashbacks* Mum's dead, Time! Run! Save yourself brother! What are you doing, dad? WHY!?_

_**Death sets us free. Freedom. Isn't that what everyone desires?**_

_*flashbacks* Voices of boys and girls screaming. Footsteps. Agony. And finally silence._

_**What difference makes this? There's no point in this freedom or love. Or anything… in that last moment -**__**parting with everything you know.**_

_*flashbacks* Where are you boooy? I know you're hiding somewhere. It's stupid to hide from your dad, isn't it, son? If you don't come out…I will find you._

_**Death comes to all and no one can escape it.**_

- What's with that new dark vibe of yours, darling? – asked maybe too emotionally Grell Sutcliff, tearing the Undertaker apart from his mind. – I've never seen you like this. Very sexy, you know.

The Undertaker was standing on the edge, leaning on his imposing death-scythe and not saying a word. Grell sat on the edge right next to him and crossed his legs. They were on the roof of an old building in London. It was early in the morning and the beautiful sunrise was waking up the sleeping city. The first sunbeams cast back gleams on Grell's fire colored hair, blowing on the light wind. He looked at the sun and then back at the Undertaker. His face was covered by his hair, shining like liquid silver.

- Is it about lost love?- Grell jumped on his feet again and leaned against the Undertaker and squealed. -Aah, that's so romantic I can't breathe! She left you because of something, didn't she? Why don't you show your toxic green eyes more often? That would…

In this moment the Undertaker turned around at lightning speed and set his death-scythe against Grell's throat, making him to swallow slowly. His face was burning with anger.

- Because of people like you, who don't know how or when to stop talking. – he whispered, but Grell still felt a shaking note, which made him look surprised at his colleague.

- Ok, ok. – he raised his hands in self defense.- Why you get so fired up?

The Undertaker stood up there a few more seconds and finally stepped away. Grell narrowed his eyes.

- No need of killing me, honey.

- Shut up. Why are you here?

-Will wants to see you. He's got a job for you. – Grell rolled his eyes.

-Well then. What a relief! – he turned away, making his dark robe dance on the concrete surface.

- Wait. – Grell popped up in front of him. –You can tell me what's wrong, you know that right?

The Undertaker laughed loudly.

- I didn't know that Grell Sutcliff can be THAT serious. Where did that come from?

- Just sayin'.- Grell shrugged shoulders – I thought…

But before Grell could finish his sentence, the Undertaker was long gone.


	2. Chapter 2

**_So..I wanted to write something dark and cute for my baby The Undertaker and I will be glad if someone shares my fangirl feelings over him and the whole lovely, genius Kuroshitsuji. The story will probably content and Grell, William, Ronald, Sebastian, Ciel and others._**

**_My apologies if something in the text is wrong spelled or not right told, English is not my native language ;). I'll be happy to hear what you think of it and also you have all my love ;3_**

The Undertaker didn't even walk fast, but he arrived at the Main Department of the death gods sooner than he expected. A guard stopped him at the entrance demanded from him his death-scythe – it was forbidden to enter the building with that. The Undertaker gave him his death-scythe unwillingly like every time he has to separate it from himself. The feeling was strange and similar to every death god. Uncomfortable lack of something important, like giving away a part from you.

He entered the building and headed to William Т. Spears' office. He opened the polished wooden door and entered the room. William's office was perfectly neat, with a strong breath of discipline. A big white window was taking the place of the left wall, enlightening the desk and the library in the room. On the desk was sitting William himself in his grey suit and the usual square glasses, writing something very intently. His desk was littered with books and white sheets of paper. The Undertaker closed the door loudly, so he may be noticed. Because he knew William hated being surprised or less – scared. Although he loved scaring people, now he wasn't in the mood of it.

- Will, what do you want?

William raised his head and fixed his glasses.

- Ah, Undertaker. I have a task for you. And it's quite complicated so I require precisely you to do it.

The Undertaker raised his eyebrow. He sighed and pulled out his dead book – raven black with silver facing. Then he went to Will's desk and took the black feather in his right hand, immersing it into the ink.

- I'm listening. – He smirked to Will and started waiting.

- So…- Will lbegan, looking cross at his feather. - You have to collect four souls. It's a family of five members – the father, the mother and the two sons die tonight at 23:17 pm. The daughter stays alive. - He stressed the last two words.

The Undertaker raised his head astounded .

- Will, I'm not like Grell killing people when I decide they're annoying or just don't like them. But I'm not getting what's so special about this so called "task".- He noticed with irritation.

- Well…- Will got up and turned around, taking a book from the bookshelf behind him. – The father in this family is an ex-shinigami.

The Undertaker froze.

- But…that means…- stammered he.

- Yes. He, his wife and his sons can only be killed by a death-scythe. That means they will all be murdered tonight. By a shinigami. He's known with the nickname Teryx Cron. No one actually knows who he is. He is bothering us too long and I think it's time to stop this madness already. Since a shinigami who kills must be punished, I need you to investigate or whatever you want. Just bring me this…mindless monster and we'll deal with it. Any questions?

- Ok, so I should wait for a mad man to kill four shinigamis and then chase after him. Is that what you're asking me to do?

- What? You are my best shot and I count on you, because you never fail to do your job. Can you do it or not?

- Yes, I can. – he closed his dead book tumultuous and returned the black feather to his owner.

- Good. You're dismissed.

The Undertaker left the room deeply sunk into his thoughts and headed to the Library of the Records.


	3. Chapter 3

He entered the flamboyant Library of the Records. The magnificent view never failed to amaze him. At one of the cloudy white bench-like seats located all around the library he found Grell and Ronald. They were chatting. Sometimes the Undertaker was feeling extremely bad for having perfect hearing.

- I've never seen him like that in my life. Like...I don't know…he was upset. However I couldn't find out why.

- Like I would say anything to a gossip like you. - laughed the Undertaker and the sound rang out in the spacious library. Around Grell and Ron fell silence and they just stopped talking and followed every move of the newcomer.

He approached them slowly. The only sound in the library was from his robe. The gentle gliding of the exquisite, obscure matter was echoing through the hall and the graceful, gentle steps of his black high-boots were depressing the white marble as if wasn't a hard stone, but a fine silk surface, almost like dancing. Undertaker's steps weren't disturbing the atmosphere of the library at all, but they surely disturbed Grell's mind, because the silence was breached by his loud sigh.

- Aaah, sweetheart. You got me all unprepared with this gorgeous gait of yours.

- Grell, stop it. –It was Ronald, choking with suppressed laughter caused by the Undertaker's expression. - Stop it or you might end up in peaces.

- Will I? Oh dear…- Grell exclaimed in delight, obviously not caring about his life safety. An awkward silence followed until Grell decided to finally leave. He stood up with another deep sigh. - Ok, guys! I gotta collect a few souls. See ya later!

He send a flying kiss and disappeared through the exit door.

- We should find him someone…- Roland shook his head. – Otherwise he's a total tragedy.

- Yea. – The Undertaker started searching trough the records.

- What are you looking for? – asked curiously Ron.

- Something in particular. Have you heard of Teryx Cron?

- Uhm. Yea. Isn't he the massive murderer of shinigami families? One big trouble for the us I must say, because he's literally a ghost. And …why are you so interested?

A few minutes passed and he continued his search faster and faster, throwing records on the floor, furiously grabbing and emptying the shelves.

- I need to …-The Undertaker was already breathing with a bit of an effort. –I need to find him, I need to …catch him and you know I am supposed to "know my enemy" before I …meet him. That's not very possible…because meeting him tonight doesn't…give me any time. – he brushed his silver hair back and stepped backwards surveying the pile of books and the messy bookshelves in which he was just seeking, determined to find what he was looking for. - I think I might somehow…I don't know, recognize his real name… when I see it with my eyes.- He continued scanning through the high shelves, left and right. –Then rushed again searching fierce.

- Undertaker? –Roland sounded doubtful.- Undertaker, what are y-

All of a sudden the Undertaker stopped searching and rested his hands on the wooden bookshelves, heavily breathing.

- You know…. That's pointless – he turned around and leaned his back on the shelves, his eyes intently watching a point somewhere in the air in front of him.

- Undertaker? Are you alright? – Ron didn't know what to do, because in his mind, seeing this guy in such a situation was like talking about comedy while someone dear to you is dying. It's so very wrong and the two things are just not compatible together. The Undertaker was imposing and always horrifying in his perfection of working. That shade of doubt in his eyes was something new to Ron and it meant something to really worry about.

- You're as white as the marble under your feet. –Ron insinuated with banter and waited for the effect.

The Undertaker startled and looked at Ron in surprise, confusion, then finally anger.

- I am perfectly fine, thanks for showing such deep concern in my health.- he turned back to the mess of books behind him.

- Help me put these back in order. I am done searching. For now.

They started putting the records back on their places in silence. First broke the silence Ron.

- Man, I think you should get away from this place a bit… - offered Ron slowly and quieter than usual.

The Undertaker pierced Ron with a cold glare and continued his work fast and concentrated. After a few minutes he slowed down, struggling intensely with his pride.

- I guess you're right. – said he with resignation and put the last book on one high shelf. – I really need to get out of here.

Ron smirked and looked at his beautiful golden watch.

- It's almost three o'clock.

- Ok. Fine. I get it. I'm leaving! – he made a few steps backwards, then turned around and headed to the door. – Are you happy?

- I'm happy.

He left the library just as he entered it - soundless, leaving Ronald behind with his apprehensions and wondering what the hell is going on with the Undertaker.


	4. Chapter 4

Deciding to go back to London, the Undertaker made his way to the London centre, ignoring the curiously looking passers-by. With the aspiration of a thunderstorm he was crossing the streets until finally arriving at his office. Or kind of. Well, the people called it that way. For its owner it was more than an office.

Usually everyone perceived this place like a forgotten hole, sodden with insanity. Probably because they connect it with death and death isn't the most pleasant thing that happens in people's life. In fact it was pretty dark and rusty. Everything was deeply sunk in webs and dust. But the Undertaker was finding it lovely. That was lovely and he wasn't going to change it. And why would he?

He traced the smooth edge of the laying coffin on his left with his fingers, wiping the dust.

_Teryx Cron…I've heard that somewhere._

Although in the room was a complete silence, outside was the opposite. The ever present noise of carriage wheels and human speech was bothering his preoccupied mind. He leaned his back on the pitch plot, grabbing the black top-hat.

_Teryx Cron._

He put the hat on his head slightly awry.

_I have got to remember._

Suddenly the door opened.

_Oh goodness, not again._

A noble thirteen years old boy entered with steps soaked up with pride, followed by his literally loyal to death servant – his demonic butler Sebastian. There was something very wicked in him, under the lofty mien of course. The Undertaker knew that the demons were sly and merciless. Even looking at this one was making him sick. He was already aware of the contract between Sebastian Michaelis and Ciel Phantomhive and as for the boy, he accepted him as a fool. In his mind was coded that the human soul is something far more precious than the ordinary intellect can imagine. No one should offer his soul as a gift. _Especially_ to a demon. Although his animosity, he had to remain indifferent to people's choices. His only job was to take care of the "boundless" souls and Ciel's soul wasn't one of these, because it was already votive to the infernal creature standing right beside him.

- Good day, Undertaker – first spoke Ciel.

The Undertaker saluted facetiously with two fingers. Then took one ceramic pot and examined it very carefully.

- What brings you here, Ciel Phantomhive?

- I came to ask you something. There are six victims…

- Listen, if you're looking for the bodies, I haven't seen any – he snapped the boy, continuing to look at the pot.

- Are you sure? – Ciel's voice was serious and even as always.

- You're joking – laughed the Undertaker.

A brief silence.

- We think that the murderer is planning at least four more appearances- Sebastian joined the conversation with his mysterious and at the same time elegant voice. –This is the list of the victims.

Sebastian brought out a folder with pages and took the first page out, handing it to the Undertaker. The latter took the page and read the names and the ages of the victims.

"Udane, 35; Nicole, 27; Daisy, 42; Eaden, 22; Rose, 56; Terra, 17"

- And what am I supposed to do? – asked absently the Undertaker, throwing the page in the air.

- There is something… on the crime scenes. Something quite strange.

- So what?

- You might want to come and see it – were the last words of Ciel and he opened the door, leaving it open. Sebastian smirked and glanced at the Undertaker, before closing the door.

The Undertaker was a bit confused. He was never invited. And he never showed himself to any crime scene. Why would he be necessary now? He left the ceramic pot on the plot angry, hating when there was no answer to any of the questions in his head. He laid himself in the laying open coffin and closed his eyes. It always helped him to think.

Silence.

_Strange…Very strange indeed. I cant...remember._

And then the thought hit him instantly, like a paper cut to his mind. It was so sudden that made him open his eyes.

_Aah, yes. Four more to go._

**U**dane, **N**icolas, **D**aisy, **E**aden, **R**ose, **T**erra

Sorry for making you wait so long, I hope you'll forgive me ;) and as always love you guys ;3


	5. Chapter 5

The Undertaker jumped out of the coffin and picked up the page with the victim's names from the ground. He saw the address of the last victim and left the office shutting the door behind him. While running to the scene of the crime his thoughts kept searching through his mind for a name, which sounded painfully familiar, but at the same time distant and…blur. He had the odd feeling of searching something that he didn't want to find. This name…it felt like intentionally hidden somewhere very deep and locked up in his mind.

He finally arrived at the address. The house where Terra Stone lived was beautiful and small, very affable. However it was surrounded of people and police officers. There was no trace of Ciel Phantomhive or his butler. The Undertaker stopped on the other side of the street, in the shadow of the building behind him. It was impossible to enter the house and see the place where the girl was murdered with all these people. He wandered what Ciel meant with "quite strange".

- They already took the body – announced Grell Sutcliff behind him.

- Grell, what are you even doing here? Don't you have work to do? – asked the Undertaker annoyed without even turning around.

- Don't worry about me, sweetheart – smiled Grell charming and stood right next to the Undertaker, looking at the people in front of Terra's house.

- Did you get a closer look of the crime scene?

- No, but I got a closer look of the girl. Don't ask how.

- Have you noticed something unusual then?

- Except the beautiful read blood, the usual scar on the right hand and the throat-cut. Nope. Nothing special.

- The usual scar? Does that mean that the other victims have it too?

- You're catching the point. There is a scar that the murderer leaves on every single victim- Grell curled one red tuft from his hair very pensive.

- The same scar every time?

- It's actually a word. He carves a word in the victim's skin.

The Undertaker looked at Grell inquiring. He met his gaze.

- It's in Latin. "Libitinarius"- said Grell slow and cautiously, waiting for the Undertaker to react.

- As expected… - the Undertake turned around and his chest pressed against something sharp. William held his death-scythe against the Undertaker.

- Will, what are you doing?

- Come on. We all know Latin. And it's not that hard figuring it out. – He fixed his glasses – There is only one Undertaker.

- Don't you think it's incredibly stupid to come here and stare at the girl's house…no way. You guys actually believe I'm responsible for all this.

- Why not? You're fitting the description perfectly.

- Why does everyone think I'm the villain? – He looked up- Every time.

- Well…aren't you? – Grell crossed his arms.

- William, I don't kill people and you know that.

- You have already experimented with them once…Why not kill them? You betrayed us once. You crossed the line; we gave you second chance. But breaking the law for the second time?

- This is ridiculous- laughed the Undertaker- and I'll prove you you're wrong.

He pulled out the page with the victims given him by Sebastian and showed it to William.

- According to the document some people heard screaming from Terra's house at 11pm. Fortunately I always write the date and time when a task is given to me - He opened his dead book and handed it to William.

"11:02 am, Thursday, 22 September

Four people die at 23:17 pm (the father, the mother and the two sons);

Venille estate, west outskirts of London"

- Also the ink is yours. – smiled the Undertaker.

William just stood there, staring the Undertaker with half-closed eyes for a minute, before he finally stepped back, tossing the dead book to it's owner.

- Ok. Why is your name everywhere then? – asked Grell still not trusting his colleague.

- I have no idea – the Undertaker pulled lightly his collar – I think it's some kind of warning. And it's addressed to me. Someone is preparing something for me. And yet I don't feel surprised.

William cleared his throat.

- Undertaker… The victim's souls are missing - They both exchanged glances. – It seems the murderer is shinigami after all.

"Is that who I'm thinking it is?" asked the voice in the Undertaker's mind.


End file.
